


Voyeur

by romanticalgirl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2017-12-11 14:37:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/799821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl





	Voyeur

Sirius is aware, when the door closes, that Remus is drunk. There’s something about the tread of his feet and the low, hushed sound of his whispers that tells him that’s the case, but it doesn’t do anything to alleviate the quick stab that comes from the answering reply.

“Hush,” Remus slurs, his voiced rimmed with laughter. “You’ll wake Sirius.”

“And who is Sirius?” Sirius doesn’t recognize the voice, which is probably for the best. He finds it easier to want to kick the arse of someone he knows than that of a total stranger. “Should I be jealous? Or will he be joining us?”

“Ha!” Remus barks out the sound then drops his voice again. “No on both counts. Sirius is my flatmate.” Sirius hears the rustling of coats and scarves and the pauses and muttered responses that punctuate them. “Fortunately, he sleeps like the dead.”

“Good, because I think I promised you after the third pint that you were going to be making a fair amount of noise.” There’s a slight wet sound followed by the low rumble of Remus’s voice, caught in his chest. “Howl at the moon.”

“There’s…oh…” Remus gasps and Sirius cracks the door just enough to see them. Remus is against the wall, pinned there by someone Sirius doesn’t recognize. His hair is long enough to be fashionable, his body solid as Remus strips his shirt off his shoulders. Remus’s head is tilted back, his neck long and exposed, pale and ripe for the trailing line of the other man’s tongue.

Sirius’s jaw tightens, his teeth tight together. His hands clench into fists as he watches, focusing on the quick movements that separate Remus’s shirt, the fingers that slide the faded shirt off his body. Sirius knows the pale blue lines are nearly invisible from so many washings, knows the downy softness of the shirt from the number of times he’s touched it. Remus’s forearms seem dark against it as it slips off him completely, the pale sliver of a scar shining in the dim light from the kitchen.

There’s another gasp that makes the pulse in Sirius’s jaw twitch as the other man sinks down in front of Remus, his hands and mouth moving over the exposed skin. Remus’s eyes are closed, his body tense and loose all at once, iron control battling the ease of the liquor as he scratches the wall with his short fingernails, his hips jutting out as the man in front of him unfastens his faded jeans.

Remus’s hair rasps against the wall as he shudders, his body open to the cool air of the room, his jeans guided down his legs. Sirius swallows hard as Remus’s cock twitches, thick and swollen and then gone as the other man takes it into his mouth. Remus opens his mouth then closes it, biting his lower lip to catch the sound. His hips move in tandem with the hand and the mouth on his cock, his body rocking as he drops one hand into the thick blond hair in front of him.

Sirius’s hand shakes as he swipes at the corner of his mouth, pressing his hand hard against his face in an effort to feel something, keep himself grounded. Remus’s cock glistens with every stroke and his tongue darts out over his lips again and again. Sirius lets his hand fall and brush his cock, hard in his shorts. He rubs it briefly, absently, his eyes locked on Remus as his mouth opens again, his harsh panting breaths loud in the silent flat. There’s the sharp smack of skin on skin, of moisture and flesh and Sirius’s knees tremble as Remus lets loose a quiet “oh” before falling back against the wall, his body like a tight coil unfurling as he comes.

There’s a silence as Remus opens his eyes, gazing down at the man before him. He stands and kisses Remus and the simple gesture guts Sirius more than anything he’s already seen. They stumble toward Remus’s room, falling practically before they’re through the door, their conversation quieter now.

Sirius closes the door, resting his head on the hollow wooden surface. He aches in all the wrong places, relief much farther away than the short distance to Remus’s bed. He exhales loudly, suppressing the sob that catches in his throat.

“Sirius?”

He doesn’t turn until he manages to force a smile to his face. She’s behind him, all long hair and velvet skin that feels wrong beneath his hands. She touches him and leads him back to the tangle of sheets, sinking down and pulling him under.

“Come back to bed.”

He nods and slides next to her, then into her. He whispers all the right words and does all the right things until she comes all around him, begging him for more. He obliges, fucking her because he can and because, when it comes to fucking Remus, he can’t.  



End file.
